


Welcome to the Circus

by ScarletxNight



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Circus, Family Drama, Fights, Gen, Got7 as circus workers, Mark as circus director, Revenge, circus artists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25281601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletxNight/pseuds/ScarletxNight
Summary: This was a birthday gift to a dear friend of mine.#HappyBirthdayIqraI turned one of her amazing edits into a story!https://aminoapps.com/c/got7igot7/page/blog/crime-of-the-orange-ringmaster-fanedit/5BrG_dXRcVuGBkjBXD7nzQga1q41qQRBjjFY
Relationships: Choi Youngjae & Mark Tuan, Im Jaebum | JB & Mark Tuan, Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam & Kim Yugyeom, Mark Tuan & Jackson Wang, Park Jinyoung & Mark Tuan
Kudos: 4





	Welcome to the Circus

The lights were off, drowning the crowd into darkness with no light in sight. The chattering turned to whispers, when a deep voice broke through them, roaring loudly, but enticingly: “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Seven Wonders, where all your deepest wishes will be fulfilled. Breathtaking acts and enchanting artists will entertain you tonight, but be careful with what you wish for…”

At these last words, one single spotlight flicked on, making the people in the front rows squint their eyes at the sudden brightness. The light was coming from behind the person standing in it, who was illuminated so stark, that only his silhouette could be made out. A young man, it seemed, wearing a top hat and a cane in one hand.

The round hall within the wide circus tent roared, whistling and stomping loudly. They knew who was standing in front of them: the Orange Ringmaster. There were more rumors surrounding this young man than coins on the ground of the most popular wishing well in the capital city. For once, he was a mystery.

Those, who had the great luck to steal a glance at him for some moments throughout the always sold out shows, where most of the time unable to find the right words to describe him. Pretty. Scary. Handsome. Young. Gorgeous. Dark. Good and bad words woven to a thick blanket of ignorance.

Still, any of these people agreed to a certain fact: He was the best at what he did. Planning and organizing the most popular show in the whole country. Forming a circus, that was nowhere close to your usual clowns and repetitive acts, this was different. This man was known as the greatest ringmaster of his time, unlike any other.

And the show had just started.

_______________________________________

“Dumbledee, get me some water, I need to wash the confetti out of Nora’s hair.” Jaebeom was combing and combing, but the little colorful pieces were stuck as if someone had glued them into the feline's fur. He was glad, that it had been his oldest, Kunta would have gone crazy with something foreign stuck to him. Jaebeom adored the way Nora purred like a little kitten at being brushed, when she was more than 300pounds heavy.

The two youngest were chasing after one another, screeching like crazy, not even hearing Jaebeom say anything. A clack could be heard, before a overfilled bucket was placed next to Jaebeom, the water swashing. He was surprised at the light footsteps, when he looked up and right into his teammate's face: “Jinyoungie!” The other one standing, scrunched up his nose in discomfort, shaking his head “I have told you numerous times and I will say it again: It’s Jinyoung. Not Junior, not Jinyoungie and absolutely not Jirongie. So, please try to be an adult and-“

The older one took a hastened breath, before spilling the next words, hurriedly: “You looked beautiful tonight. The colored lights lighting up your face, when you are so concentrated, just breathtaking.” Jaebeom didn’t seem to care, that the other stumbled backwards, nearly running away, when he turned around, ears and cheeks flushed red. Jaebeom’s face still plastered with a smile, he loved making him uncomfortable until he was speechless, because Park Jinyoung was nowhere easy to shut up in any way.

“JB and Jinyoung sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! First-“ Jackson was singing at the top of his lungs, lounging on a big pile of crates standing around, when Yugyeom and his brain-twin finally stopped running around just to act like vomiting with a few “Ewww”’s of BamBam and choking noises of the youngest. Jaebeom shook his head at the picture in front of him, a low “I wish..:” escaping his lips, making Jackson go “Ooohhhh” and BamBam trying to reanimate Yugyeom, who seemed to have a heart attack at this.

They were fooling around some more, even making Youngjae pop up out of nowhere right next to Jackson, letting him scream like a (manly) school girl in the process. The maknaes went big eyed and questioned him how he had done that, wanting him to spill some of his show acts too, when Youngjae just whispered “Magician codex” and nearly skipped towards Jaebeom. He kept his distance until the older lead his tigress away and into her sleeping place, before he took place next to him on a stool.

He looked around, before leaning in conspiringly: “Do you want me to help you out a little bit? Make Jinyoung-hyung stumble into your arms or cuffing him to you? Oh, I know: I could make his rope move just a little bit into the wrong-“ Jaebeom stopped him with a hand, not wanting to hear any more. He was used to Youngjae’s little tricks, but his stomach twisted at the thought of playing around with the only thing keeping Jinyoung right underneath the roof of the nearly 30m high tents.

A little messing around could make him sway and fall all the way down into the safety net, which he knew from experience, still hurt. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, knowing his friend was just trying to help in his weird-Youngjae way. “Thanks, Jae. But I decline, apart from Jinyoung possibly falling to his death, this will probably end with him kicking my head off, so no. I may not be the smartest, but that’s a death wish, I surely don’t have.”

The younger pouted, wanting to argue, when a booming voice made all of them flinch. “Jackson! Why are all these knifes lying around? Do you know how dangerous that is? Are you guys not finished yet? All I see you do is lazing around, if you don’t want to work, you are free to leave! Forever.” The door to the eldest’s office was thrown into its lock with a deafening sound, before any of them could answer back or even move from the spots they were glued to now.

It took a long moment for all of them to swallow Mark’s harsh words the way only friends of many years could. Jaebeom turned back from staring at the still vibrating door to Youngjae, but he was gone, nowhere in sight. He sighed, seeing how BamBam and Yugyeom tiptoed towards their rooms, to get away from a bad-tempered ringmaster like naughty children running from their angry parents.

It was Jackson, who hopped off his stacks of crates, to dust himself off and walk towards the now deadly quiet office, Jaebeom wanted to warn him, but Jackson beat him to it: “I know, Hyung. Let me talk to him. He seems agitated.” Taking a deep breath, Jackson slowly pushed the door open and entered.

The inside was a mess. Chaos leading from the door to the two small windows and back over the heavy desk full of papers. Jackson knew Mark better than anyone after spending most of his life with him, but he had never seen him look this…tired. Mark didn’t look up, ignoring him on purpose as he pulled his red pen a little too strongly over the paper, he was hunched over. They both flinched at the squeaky circle, sounding like a desperate cry for help from the pen.

The sound faded, Mark drawing more lines, before he threw it on a seemingly unorganized stack of papers, pulling the next under his helpless pen. Jackson stood there, watching. He knew, that any conversation started by him would be scotched, before he would even end his sentence. The best way for this was to wait, until Mark acknowledged his presence.

It took another full five minutes, before Mark broke the silence. Throwing his pen to the side as if it deserved the mistreatment, he pulled both free hands through his hair and over his fallen face, fixing Jackson right after “What?” It was just one word, but Jackson nearly let out a sigh of relief. He had considered already, if it was possible for a human to sleep standing up. Well, horses could do that, right? And he was surely smarter than a horse…or maybe not. Mark cleared his throat after some seconds, pulling the younger out of his ridiculous thoughts.

Here they were: none of them speaking up, staring at each other like they could solve this with just their eyes. Well, they once could, Jackson remembered sadly. There had been a time, where he knew exactly what was on Mark’s mind. How he felt and what food he wanted to eat for lunch, after training for hours together. It had been easier to recognize Mark’s inner world than his own back then, but that was three years ago.

Jackson had trusted him more than anything else then, letting himself fall so many times or jumping into the air, just to land in the other’s arms, never letting him fall or even doubt being caught. So, what had happened? A small sigh slipped his lips at the fond memories, making Mark’s eyes flicker for a split second as if he knew about it, before he looked back down stoically: “I know what you want to say: 'that was over the top.’ 'you should apologize.’ 'why are you being like this?’. We’ve been there and I won’t change my standpoint: I am the director. I am your ringmaster. Deal with it or leave.”

Jackson waited for him to finish, before he started to break his walls down. He knew him better than anyone else, still. It had been months since Mark was acting like this, maybe even a year. Cold, distancing himself from all of his friends and digging into paperwork, that could surely wait. But these last months had gotten worse and it was too long to accept it anymore.

A clump formed in Jackson’s windpipe, when he spoke up, knowing what he was about to do. This would surely not just break his walls, but Mark too. “Three years. It’s been three years, Hyung. Can’t you…” accept it? Leave it? Forget it? What was he trying to say, when he knew the answer already?

The fire had taken more from Mark than any of them. While the others and Jackson had gotten slight burns and ashes in their lungs, Mark was devastated in the worst way. His parents, the directors back then, had not survived, breathing in too much of the smoke. Mark had tried to save them running back inside, while Jackson was held back by their friends, not being fast enough to grab the oldest too.

It was useless in the end. Mark had not even reached them, when one of the thick pillars collapsed and buried him underneath, breaking his leg through. Jackson had heard his heartbreaking screams, more sorrow than physical pain, knowing he was helpless, watching his family and home burn to ashes around him, lying there.

It broke something inside all of them, that could never be fixed again. They had tried to move on, leaving the burnt down hall they had lived and worked in before, to turn into a traveling circus troupe under Mark, who was their new director. Jackson could still feel the heat and ashes on his face, when he closed his eyes at night…

A hard laugh brought him back, Mark cutting through it with even harsher words: Give up? Never, so don’t waste my time.” Jackson shook his head, slowly getting irritated by the other: “Not giving up. Living on. You can’t keep on doing this. You are awake before dawn and lock yourself up at night, after the show. When have you last gone out? We are in one of the most beautiful cities right now and you haven’t left these tents for even an hour!”

Mark’s face was blank as he blinked back at Jackson, no emotion decipherable: “So, that’s your problem? Me not wanting to go out? What do you mean? I was never the outgoing type to begin with, aren’t you overreacting, Jackson-ah?” Had he still been the young teenager he was, when joining the circus back then, Jackson would have lost his temper, yelling around and talking nonsense just to prove he was right, but he wasn’t. Mark was trying to make him lose said temper, like he had done for fun in the past, but Jackson wouldn’t jump on it. Not now.

He internally counted to ten, before starting again, going full on the offensive: “I know you have been meeting Hyunwoo these past months. Regularly.” Mark shook his head, patronizing Jackson in the worst way: “What? Jealous, Gaga?” He took the blow willingly, knowing Mark was trying to still push him over the edge. Inch by inch. Jackson was feeling nauseous, the words dripping like poison out of his own mouth:

“Your parents are dead, Hyung. Stop this! You are dragging all of us down with you. Getting someone like Hyunwoo to find people, you don’t even know exist, is crazy! What if it was not arson, like you believe? What if it was just an accident, like everyone else says? What are you going to do then? You are holding on to something-“

“Get out.” Mark’s voice was low, making Jackson’s mouth go dry, his words dying on his tongue. He was about to push him too far, he knew this voice too well, although it was never used against him before. Mark was furious, so he took up all hiw courage to push through: “No. I am not leaving. We have to talk about this!” Mark stood up fast, wiping all of the papers from the table with an angry move. The white and tinted pages flying through the office like great feathers for some quiet seconds, their flapping the only sound to be heard.

It reminded Mark bitterly of the time, when he still could fly. Free like a bird with every spin and jump. He huffed heavily, trying to control his anger, before he attempted something awful. His mind was spinning, telling him to say or do anything, to end the pain flowing through his veins, so he did: “That’s enough. Leave. You are fired.” Unlike the chaotic storm inside of him, Mark’s voice was firm like iron, when his stare found Jackson’s surprised face: “What?”

Mark tried to hide the trembling of his hands, collecting some of the papers to put them back. A voice in his head crying and yelling for him to stop. “You heard me.” Instead of begging or relenting, like Mark expected, Jackson let out a huff, turning around on the spot. Had the door been see-through, he would have witnessed Mark’s shocked face as he rounded his desk in a hurry to stand in the middle of the office, like a lost child. But it was too late.

Loud voices could be heard, echoing through the circus, yelling and cursing. Mark knew it was the others, probably Jaebeom and Jinyoung mostly, trying to stop Jackson from leaving, scared he wouldn’t come back. The thought hit Mark harder than he expected, his legs nearly giving in as he grabbed for the massive oak desk. They were breaking apart.

In the silence, a sigh came from behind him, when he was sure there was no one just seconds before. The eldest closed his eyes, cursing. Of course, it was him: “Youngjae-ah, I told you numerous times, not to do this. How long did you hide here?” The younger one actually stepped forward, making his way into Mark’s peripheral vision, before stopping, keeping his distance.

His voice was hoarse, when he spoke up, his tone disbelieving: “You just threw him out. You just destroyed our family. How could you, Hyung? I promised you, to help find the ones you were looking for, but I can’t, if you are like this. He was right. Every word, Jackson-hyung said, was the truth, you are just too hurt to see.” So, he had heard everything.

Mark squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to let Youngjae’s words hit him, when he already felt like falling apart, but it was no use. Youngjae was right. He had done his best to run after the shadows of Mark’s demons, back then. He had promised to find anyone who did this to them, but there had been nothing until now. Three years and the shadows only grew, their figures nowhere in sight.

Jackson was right all along.

He had to let go of this darkness, before it swallowed him whole. He knew it himself, but he just couldn’t. He would hold on until the end, even if it meant, killing himself. Mark was sure of what he had seen in that fire. He was sure, this was the only way for him to find his peace.

Youngjae had turned around, about to leave him alone, not wanting to talk to his friend as words didn’t reach him, when Mark’s next words made him stop, running shivers down his spine. He had never sounded this frightening before.

“Tʜɪs ᴄɪʀᴄᴜs ɪs ᴍʏ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ I ᴡɪʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ ᴍʏ ʀᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇ.” Or die trying. He swallowed the last words, knowing Youngjae had picked them up as if he had spoken them out loud. Youngjae’s voice faded, Mark feeling that he had left him alone finally: “I just hope you won’t lose what’s truly important in the process, Hyung, because I also won’t be there by then.” The slight breeze following felt cool and calming, a single tear running down the ringmaster's face in the emptiness of it all.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡


End file.
